


Staccato

by Terminallydepraved



Series: Works for Others [21]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Burlesque, F/M, Hot Tub Sex, Lapdance, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 03:03:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11500428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: When Jack finds himself assigned to a club in search of Los Muertos members, he finds something a little more interesting flitting through the crowd- namely, a gorgeous Widowmaker working undercover as a hostess.





	Staccato

**Author's Note:**

> got another one of these for yall! thank you to the person who made this possible. i hope you all enjoy it!

The scent of warm bodies, booze, and iniquity went hand in hand in places like these. Jack wasn’t overly fond of strip clubs, or gentleman’s clubs, or whatever it was they were called when they looked as ritzy as this, but he believed deep in the cockles of his soul that no matter the location, and no matter the entry fee, every club was the same in what it peddled.

It was just a pity that Jack wasn’t interested at all in what they were selling.

He sighed out his thousandth sigh of the evening, sipping on his scotch ruefully. Most operatives would trade their last pound of flesh for an operation like this. Jack wasn’t sure what it was that made him so bored with the idea of staking out a strip club. Was it his age? His general malaise? Or perhaps it was the thought that no matter who he paid, no matter the bombshell he drew in with his money or his looks or his name, none of them could compare to what he had enjoyed in the past. These women were pretty, sure, but they were no widow-makers. 

Sighing again, Jack took another sip of his scotch. The show was well underway up on the stage, but the dancers held no appeal either. Every other man sat rapt to the dexterity they flaunted, the perfection their bodies possessed, but to Jack, it just seemed tawdry. Overwatch had given him a fat stack of cash to buy himself a cover, but what was the point? It would be a waste of money to spend any of that here on a girl who didn’t excite him. Taking another glance around, Jack looked for any sign of his target. It would be best if he found him quickly and got out of here. Los Muertos operatives weren’t known for keeping low profiles, so how hard could it be to find him?

From what Jack could tell, there was no one here today besides businessmen, rich college boys out on spring break, and the usual sort of men who spent their disposable income on lap dances instead of investing in their kids’ college funds. Jack himself was undercover as something similar, but classy enough to keep himself out of trouble should someone try to bother him. Dressed in his pressed suit and polished shoes, he looked more like the owner of the club than an attendee. His targets, on the other hand, should not be so well blended. Maybe Jack just wasn’t looking hard enough. It wasn’t as if he had been looking all too hard anyhow, not with the girls roaming around and his scotch in his hand.

To the right he saw the bar, and to the left he saw more tables, waitresses and hostesses flitting between seats to serve the men who waited for their turn with one of the main ladies. Jack let his eyes and attention wander, looking but not really seeing as men waved their money in the air, trying to entice a dancer to approach, or, if their tastes leaned in that direction, one of the servers. Jack could see one such man trying his luck with just that off to his side, perhaps three tables away. Some poor sap biting off more than he could chew with some dark haired, leggy beauty delivering drinks to the table.

At least, that’s what it looked like to Jack up until the river of dark hair fell away to reveal a face that Jack had just been entertaining in his boredom fueled musings. Could it really be? There was no way that it was her, but his eyes didn’t lie. Amelie La Croix was serving cocktails in a club, and, by the looks of things, was making a big splash with the clientele already.

Amelie smiled at the hapless man before her, tucking her hair behind her ear as she turned him down without so much as stumbling, tucking the thick roll of bills he offered back into his breast pocket. The moment Jack saw her, his mouth went dry and his blood began to heat. Jack set his tumbler of scotch on the arm of his chair, eyes widening as he took in the unmistakable figure gliding through the rows of tables in front of him. Amelie? Here? It made no sense, but then again, not much did in their line of work. What was she wearing? Was she posing as a hostess here? Whatever the answers were, Jack could only appreciate the way she wore her uniform.

He didn’t have the words to accurately name what she was wearing, but he knew well enough that what she wore was better suited to the bedroom than to the floor of an expensive club. Long, black gloves hugged her slender arms as she handed out drinks to those before her, and her waist, tiny and cut into a perfect hourglass, was covered in what looked to be some sort of lacy, glittering black corset. When she leaned over, her soft, full lips to some man’s ear, Jack was able to get a glimpse at her breasts. They were just barely covered by the bust of the sexy lingerie, and if he followed her curves downwards, he would see the little garters that held her stockings up. A pair of deadly looking stilettos finished off the wicked little get up, and Jack felt himself sweat as he made the long, long trip back up her body, pausing on her face just as it turned in his direction.

Amelie’s eyes met his and she didn’t even have the decency to look surprised, telling him quite succinctly that she was here for a reason, and that reason was most certainly him. Damn Talon and their intelligence network. Did they own this club, or did they really know who his target was? Jack downed the rest of his scotch and shot her a cocky grin, crooking his finger to draw her towards him. It was perfection incarnate, watching her as Amelie sauntered towards him with her little platter balanced on her gloved hand. Fulfilling his mission requirements was about to get that much harder, but at least the boredom was gone.

“Welcome,” Amelie sang the moment she came up to his chair, her smile the absolute picture of polite smugness. “Welcome to Club Regent. Could I refresh your drink? Or would you rather a cigar, perhaps?”

So she felt like playing, did she? Jack raised a brow and snagged her by the waist, tugging her down into his lap with a toothy grin. So did he, and when Jack played, he always played to win. “I think I’m feeling in the mood for you, baby girl, since you’re here.” God, she really was wearing nearly nothing. The lingerie covered what it needed to cover and not much more besides.

“Oh, but sir,” she pouted, bopping him on the nose with her finger, “I’m afraid that I am off the menu.”

“Really now?” he growled, holding her hips in his hands. “And here I thought you were. Usually they don’t dress up products so nicely if they’re not gonna let the customers partake.” A draft rolled by and it carried on it the scent of Amelie’s perfume, something floral and expensive and altogether intoxicating. All thoughts of his target fled his mind in the scent’s wake.

In one sinuous move, Amelie had him straddled, her soft, luscious thighs parted in his lap. “Oh, well,” she grinned, too happy to see him to keep up with the game, “when you say it like that. Perhaps I can be coaxed into servicing you? I would hate to leave you….”

She paused, trailing off as she leaned against his chest, her lips at his ear. “Unsatisfied,” she finished, her voice just the breath of a moan. Warmth pooled lowly in Jack’s stomach, his hands moving down to cup her perfect ass through the sheer material of her lingerie.

“I don’t think you could even if you tried,” he said, rolling his hips upwards, rubbing his hardening cock against her so she could feel what she was doing to him. God, he wanted more.

“What are you doing here, Jack?” she asked, whispering her words into his ear. She didn’t sound all too surprised, or even angry that he had crashed her… what? Her own mission? Her little détente with these poor saps too weak to handle her? “I hardly thought you to be the type to mix business with pleasure.”

Jack squeezed her hips tight, kissing a line down her throat, tasting her skin. God, he could already feel himself heating up just from the taste, from the weight of her in his lap. Her outfit was silky and smooth, sliding like water against his suit. “I’m not,” he breathed, nibbling her ear gently, “but you make a good argument for me to start.”

“That’s not an answer, Jack,” she giggled, ticklish in the best way. She rolled a little in his lap, her ass teasing his cock through his pants. “What if you are here to kill me? This wouldn’t be a fair fight at all.”

“You’re right,” he said, settling his hands on her small waist, squeezing gently. “Your body is already a deadly weapon outside of this outfit. With it, you’re something I can’t even imagine defending myself against.”

Amelie pouted cutely, bringing her fingers to her lips to give him a coquettish look. “If you won’t tell me, I guess I won’t linger,” she sighed, moving to stand up. “You obviously aren’t here for me, and I wouldn’t want to distract you from your important work.”

Jack’s grip went tight before he really processed what he was doing, dragging her back into his lap with a warning growl. “Oh, no you don’t, baby girl,” he rumbled, eyes narrowing with his smile. “This club has been boring me to death all night. There’s no way I’m letting you go without at least a dance.”

“A dance?” she asked, settling her hands on his shoulders easily, smiling as if she were playing her favorite game. “But Jack, I don’t know. That isn’t my job here. What if I get fired? How will I make a living then?” Her words were punctuated by a cute little giggle, her dark eyes framed beautifully by her long, thick lashes.

“Oh, I’d take care of you,” Jack promised, touching her all over her lovely hips, her tiny waist, along the corset that showcased her figure like a prize to be won. “I’d take you home with me and keep you in my bed. You’d be my own little baby doll, baby doll. You wouldn’t want for anything,” he smiled, cupping her cheek in his hand, loving how she leaned into his palm. “Nothing except for my cock to fill you up.”

Amelie let out a little shiver, her cheeks growing hot as she bit her lip in want. “Oh, Jack, you’re so lewd,” she gasped, moving her hips a little as if she couldn’t help herself with Jack so near. “You would like that too much, wouldn’t you? Having me so close, always so near for you? You must think me so hungry for your touch. What if it’s all in your head?”

Cupping her ass and giving her a rough squeeze, Jack had her moaning into his neck easily. “I don’t think it’s in my head, baby girl,” he growled, rolling her against his steadily hardening cock. “You want me just as much as I want you, and I think you want to dance for me now, don’t you? You want to put on a show and put all these other girls to shame, right here in my lap all for me.”

“I do,” she breathed, rolling her chest against his, her covered breasts so warm. Jack glanced down and saw the cheeky tease of her cleavage, and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in her breasts. “Jack, I do, but what if someone sees?”

“Then I suppose they are going to get a little glimpse of heaven, aren’t they?” he said with a rakish grin, bouncing her on his lap a little to make her whine. “Just a dance, baby girl. We can save the rest for when we’re alone.” Jack was pretty sure he had spotted a sleazy motel nearby, and, if that was a no-go, they could always settle for an alley or the roof. They had gotten frisky in worse places with results that were far too good to decry now of all times.

“Such a beast,” she whined, letting her hands slide down his shoulders, squeezing a little at his biceps. “Such a strong, wanton beast. Will you give me something nice if I do? Will you make me feel good too, Jack?”

“Oh, baby,” he purred, leaning in to kiss her hungrily. “I’ll make you scream my name all night long.” She didn’t even need to ask. Jack would pleasure her until she cried no matter what. Amelie was worth it. She was always worth it because when it came to getting off, Jack had never had a lover quite like her before.

Amelie already looked half-way to wrecked. She bit on her bottom lip and smiled. “I can’t resist a promise like that,” she said, pushing away from his chest a bit to give herself some space to work. “Sit back and enjoy the show, Jack,” she cooed, bringing her hands to her waist. “I assure you, it’s the best the club can offer.”

Jack grinned and did as she asked, sipping on his scotch and believing every word. And how could he not? This club didn’t have any talent half as beautiful as Amelie. “Give me it all, baby girl,” he growled, bouncing her a little on his knee. “I expect to be entertained.”

Her laugh fell like music in the air, far more pleasant than the rough, pounding bassline the club was trying to sell as music behind them. Her hands ran up and down her waist, her hips rolling in smooth, gyrating circles in his lap. Closing her eyes, Amelie began to touch herself, moving in time to the beat. Jack sipped his drink and narrowed his eyes, that burning heat from before curling up in his stomach like the alcohol. God, she looked good like this. The dim lights didn’t detract from an ounce of her beauty. If anything, it just added another layer to it, the shadows contrasting against her slick, shiny corset, the faint highlights deepening her cheekbones, glistening enticingly off her luscious, full lips.

The sight of her tongue sneaking out to wet her lips made Jack want to take her on the floor, right here, right now. He held himself back. It would be just a shame to ruin the show so soon. Instead, Jack contented himself by shifting Amelie onto one knee, letting her dance and move and grind herself against his leg in warm, smooth motions.

“Do you feel good, baby girl?” Jack asked, his mouth going dry as Amelie moved her hands higher, ghosting over her breasts, over her slender, perfect neck. She moaned silently in his lap, almost as if she were getting off on the dance, getting off for Jack’s viewing pleasure. “You look so good,” he growled, letting a hand cup her ass, helping her move.

“Mmm, I feel so good, Jack,” she gasped, tangling her hands in her hair, lifting her arms as she grinded against his knee. Her cheeks were already flushed, her chest heaving for the breath that was becoming labored. “Keep talking to me, Jack. I want to hear your voice.”

She did, did she? Jack smirked, draining the last of his scotch and setting the glass down on the floor beside his chair. It freed up both hands that way, and Jack knew he needed two hands to appreciate Amelie fully. He wrapped his arms around her and tugged her closer to his chest, fondling her gently in a way that he knew went against the club’s rules of conduct. The perks of knowing the dancer, he supposed, hoping that anyone else watching was burning with anger, jealously, and lust.

“What those others wouldn’t give to have you like this in their laps,” Jack laughed, squeezing her hips appreciatively. “What they wouldn’t give to take you the way I take you. How much do you think they would pay for the honor? I bet you most would give anything. They would give it all to have you on your knees in front of them, servicing them the way you service me.”

Amelie shook in his hands, her eyes blown black with want. Was she thinking about it? What a naughty girl. Jack couldn’t blame her much for it. He could hardly get the thought out of his head too, but of course, what was the use of thinking it when he could be experiencing it again first hand?

“But you don’t need them, now do you?” he asked, noting how she rode his thigh faster now, her breaths coming in measured little huffs. “All you need is me. Don’t you want to make me feel good, baby girl?”

“Yes, Jack,” she moaned pitifully, her arms trembling as she wrapped them around Jack’s neck, still dancing along to the beat as she worked herself against his knee. “I want to make you feel so good. I want us to feel good together. I want to feel you on top of me, holding me down. God, Jack. I can imagine how good you would feel inside me.”

Amelie wanted to hear Jack talk, but she was the one making Jack sweat with pleading little cries like that. He felt so hot now, the tailored suit suffocating when the thought of Amelie’s soft, perfumed skin teased him all over. His hands ran along her arms, her thighs, his nails catching on the delicate little lace garters wrapped around her legs. It would be so easy to bare more of her skin. It would be so easy to have her naked in his lap, legs spread and pretty mouth pleading for him to fill her up, to make her cum.

It really was a shame they were doing this in front of the whole club, because Jack wanted nothing more than to rip her little lingerie off with his teeth and do all of that and more. He held back on the urge, knowing that he could never let anyone else see her like that. There were too many eyes on them as it was, too many greedy, disgusting eyes raking along Amelie’s form, no doubt longing the same exact thing. Her body was too perfect for just anyone to see, and Jack was man enough to admit he was far too jealous to ever let that happen. So, he settled instead on bouncing her on his knee, letting her ride his thigh harder, faster, as she danced and twisted and gyrated in his lap.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he grunted, squeezing her ass with appreciation. Amelie let out a needy little moan, her hips moving all the faster as she began to get wet. “Where did you get this outfit, anyway? You’ve never worn anything like this for me.”

“Jealous, are you?” she laughed, moving her hands to her neck, touching and stroking down her body as she danced. She wasn’t a professional, and Jack knew her skillset lay in much more deadly areas, but when she was like this, dressed like this, it was hard to believe she were anything other than the sexy little stripper she was pretending to be. What a waste to have her masquerade as a hostess. She would have been perfection incarnate if Talon had assigned her to work the stage. “It was part of my cover,” she explained softly, going so far as to moan the words in his ear just to make him sweat. “They wanted me to be mobile, flexible, but still maintain enough distance and discretion to allow me to slip into any place I may find myself.”

“Like into Soldier 76’s lap?” Jack chuckled, dragging his knuckles down her spine, petting her like the pretty kitten she was.

Amelie laughed, nipping his ear between her teeth teasingly. “Among other places, but sure,” she purred. “Like into your lap.”

“Damn straight. It’s where you belong, baby girl,” he crooned, spreading his legs a little wider. “You just look so pretty curled up in my lap. Do you want to ride me? Is it killing you that you can’t strip down right here in my lap and stuff yourself with my big, thick cock?”

Shuddering, Amelie leaned into his chest, nodding her head frantically. Her skin was hot, her cheeks flushed, and when Jack glanced down at his thigh, he could see the fabric shiny with her slick. “God, Jack, please,” she begged, looking pleasure drunk already. Jack cupped her cheek and she leaned into his touch, her soft lips mouthing along his fingers in a facsimile of what she really wanted to do to him.

“I’d let you,” Jack said, brow raised. “If you really wanted to, I’d let you shimmy out of that outfit and onto my cock. I’d let you ride me until you came right in the middle of this club so long as you screamed my name when you lost control.” So long as she told everyone here who she belonged too, he could put up with anything. If they tried to touch her too, well, he had been authorized to use deadly force tonight. If they tried, he would make them regret it.

Amelie’s breath stuttered and so did her dance. She stared into Jack’s eyes with pupils blown black, her lips parted in a low, needy moan. “Jack,” she gasped, shaking her head wildly, her long, beautiful hair tossing over her shoulders with the move. “Jack, Jack, you can’t just say things like that to me.”

“Why?” he prodded, taking her by the hips to roll her against him harder, shocking another moan from her lips. “Because I make you want to do it?”

“Because you’re going to make me cum,” she moaned pitifully, clutching at his shoulders wantonly.

“I don’t see anything wrong with that,” Jack laughed, looking around to make sure that no one was watching. His own arousal was burning brightly now, her scent only riling him up more and more. They needed to take this somewhere else soon. Somewhere more private, at any rate. “But I suppose I would rather you cum on my cock, huh? Too bad we don’t have a room.”

Biting her lip, Amelie let out another needy sound, one that went right to Jack’s cock. “But what about your mission?” she breathed, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. “Don’t you have important hero things to do? Far be it from me to distract the famous Soldier 76 from his sworn duty.” She giggled there, cocking her head like the coquettish beauty she was. “That would be rather naughty of me.”

She said that as if she weren’t already a naughty little minx. Jack raised a brow and curved his lips into a smirk. “Who says I can’t do both?” he asked, taking her by the chin to draw her close for a soft, teasing kiss. “Taking a known and infamous Talon operative out of commission for a few hours would go hand in hand with my mission, now that you mention it. It would be a shame if you got in my way, baby girl. So maybe it’s for the best if I fuck you so hard that you can’t walk for the rest of the night.”

Instead of replying, Amelie just leaned in and kiss kissed him, devouring the words off his tongue as if she were hungry for the filth they embodied. Her chest pressed warmly against Jack’s and her hips stilled in their frantic movements for a moment. Jack kissed her back, dipping his tongue inside her mouth to pull another sexy mewl from her. God, she tasted so good. Better than the scotch and far better than anything that belonged in this boring club.

But all too soon she was pulling away, breaking the kiss with a little twist of her hips that told Jack she was up to no good at all. Jack raised a brow as Amelie slipped out of his lap, her smile sly and dripping trouble. “And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, letting her thread their fingers together. She tugged cutely on his hand, urging him to his feet. He stayed put though, wanting her to work for it. It would be cute to watch her tug while standing on legs that barely looked capable of keeping her upright.

“Oh, Jack, come on,” she pouted, the innocent look doing horrible, horrible things to Jack’s relentless, growing hunger. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Not even a little bit,” he growled. He was addicted, sure, but he wasn’t an idiot.  

“That’s a shame,” she teased, bringing his hand up to her full lips, kissing along his fingers with her eyes half lidded. Her breath was warm, and when Jack felt the tease of her tongue against his skin, his hand gripped his scotch so hard that the glass nearly shattered.

“Do you understand now, mon cherie?” she asked, batting her long lashes, rolling her head on her shoulder to show off the long, beautiful line of her throat. “I just want to serve you properly. You are a valued guest here.”

Jack swallowed hard, beginning to sweat. He grinned a sharp grin, the excitement just as heady as a long, deep pull of scotch and far more delicious besides. Fire raced along his veins, heating his blood like nothing else. “I’d hate to get you in trouble for doing a poor job,” he said, letting her tug him onto his feet and guide him through the cluster of tables and men drinking from the fonts of beauty available to them. What it must feel like, Jack thought, to drink from a font that would never quite slake the way Amelie could. Oh well, he smiled. More for him. All for him.

“Jack,” Amelie purred, her hand resting on a nondescript door. Along it’s black finish was emblazoned the simple letters _VIP._ “You know me. You know my work. You know,” she said, pushing open the door, “that I _never_ do anything poorly.”

Truer words had never before been spoken. Jack slipped through the door and into the VIP room after her, letting the door close behind him with a soft click. They were in some sort of hallway, one that was dotted with doors along either wall. Jack held his tongue and let her pull him down the hall, her heels clicking against the tile floor, her ass so goddamn sexy in the little outfit she wore. Moving alongside her, Jack let his free hand cup her ass, smoothing down the perfect curve. His fingertips brushed the lace of her panties. She was wet, to his utter glee. Already wet and not even out of her clothes yet.

“Where are we going?” he asked, mouth already watering at the thought of seeing her strip out of the little get up. “Are you allowed back here?”

Amelie hummed, giving him a mischievous look. “Talon takes care of everything for these missions, Jack,” she said, stopping in front of the last door on the right. “That includes getting me access to every part of an establishment and, ah, all its perks as well.”

Jack furrowed his brow. “Perks?” But Amelie just gave the doorknob a twist, opening it up and guiding him inside. Jack followed like a moth to flame, his mouth slackening a bit as he took in the room around them.

Plush carpet, ornate decorations, and the scent of champagne greeted him first and foremost. The room looked like it belonged in the fanciest of hotels, something reserved for honeymooners or rich lovers on illicit get-away trips. A jacuzzi bubbled away off in the corner, the water pink and inviting. Jack turned to Amelie who was over by the built-in bar, smiling widely. “Had something specific in mind for tonight, didn’t you?” he asked, walking over to an expensive looking leather sofa, sitting himself down in it and propping his feet up on the equally fancy coffee table. All he needed now was a beer and a football game and he’d be in complete heaven.

Or well, he amended as Amelie sauntered over to him, another scotch in hand and a lit cigar, Cuban by the smell of it, in the other, perhaps he could upgrade his pedestrian tastes for a night. He did have something a lot more entertaining than football in his lap, after all.

He took the glass and cigar that Amelie handed him, sipping the perfect drink as he took in the perfect angel in front of him. The cigar was indeed Cuban, smooth and heady as he took a cursory puff, holding it in place between his teeth. “Going to entertain me then?” he asked, putting his feet back on the ground before he patted his knee expectantly. “You never did finish your dance.”

Amelie smiled, ignoring his knee to spread his legs, kneeling between them with a purposefulness that couldn’t be misconstrued. “I thought we might move on from that,” she whispered, taking her glove between her teeth and tugging it from her arm in a slow, mind-numbing motion. Jack swallowed, puffing away at his cigar as she did the same with the other, tossing them to the floor in a satin heap. With her hands now bare, she got to unzipping his slacks with a quick tug of her hand, her slender fingers dancing along the zipper. “This room was made for two. It would be a shame not to do more than just dance the night away with you, Jack.”

The way she said his name was going to drive him insane. He took a sip of his scotch, a puff of the cigar, and laughed lowly as she pulled him from his boxers, her small hand stroking him teasingly, her soft, full lips wet and oh so close. “I’ll have to tip you extra for being so proactive,” he offered, hissing a little as she finally took him into her mouth. Pleasure rolled down his spine like the bite of the scotch, the perfect pair to the drink in every way.

Humming out her laugh, Amelie closed her eyes and wasted no more time with words. She hollowed her cheeks and bobbed her head with a teasing, dizzying slowness, her hand stroking what she couldn’t fit inside her mouth. Jack carded his fingers through her long hair, holding off on the urge to drag her lower. She was doing such a good job, so where would the fun be in rushing her? She pulled off for a moment to kiss and lap at the head of his cock, bouncing it against her tongue like the minx she was.

“You’re such a good little escort, aren’t you?” Jack growled, his lips going tight at the corners when she gave the head a harsh, closed-mouth suck. He sucked in on the cigar, the smoke filling his lungs as Amelie went to town. “S-such a talented little whore. You’ve done this a few times before, haven’t you? Did they like you as much as I do?”

Amelie let out a giggle, rubbing her soft cheek against his cock. “I don’t think anyone could like me as much as you do, Jack,” she cooed, going back down on him before he could gather breath enough to agree. She stopped playing then, going deep, deeper, her lips brushing the base of his cock, her throat massaging him rhythmically. Jack grunted and leaned back in the seat, his head falling back against the couch. A man could fall in love with a mouth like that. Amelie really was dangerous, for this and many other reasons besides.

His hand tightened in her hair, holding her down against his lap. God, the sounds she was making. Every bob of her head produced a heady little moan, her cheeks flushed and her skin glistening as she began to sweat. Jack nudged her thighs apart with his boot, rolling the toe against her dripping, soaked pussy. Even through the lingerie he could make out how excited she was, how much she was getting off on getting him off. She trembled when he rubbed her gently, letting her rock against his boot until her shoulders were shaking like a leaf in a storm.

Amelie pulled off his cock, gasping for breath. “God, Jack,” she moaned, her eyes blown with pleasure, her body already aching with need. “I thought I was the one servicing you.”

“Oh, you are, babe,” he chuckled, stopping his foot entirely, watching her rut against his boot with an upset little cry. “You’re definitely giving me a great show. But, if you’re going to complain, by all means,” he said, gesturing back at his cock, the head flushed and dripping precum. “Finish what you started.”

Her hand shook as she brought it back to his cock, her lips downturned in a pretty pout that sent Jack’s cock twitching. “You are so mean to me,” she whined, rolling against his boot in slow, luxurious motions. “You could at least fuck me properly if you wanted to make me feel good. Am I worth no more than your boot?”

Jack had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from cumming when Amelie went down on him again suddenly. Was this her version of revenge? He gripped the empty scotch glass in one hand and her hair in the other, grunting like a man in pain at the skill in which she worked. “If you keep that up, you won’t have a cock to fuck,” he said tersely, his teeth clenched. “I’m not as young as I used to be, babe. Unless you’re a fan of waiting a bit, maybe you should ease up and let me do you properly.”

Amelie, damn her soul, looking up at him with his cock still in her mouth, rolling her eyes as if she were considering it. She delivered another harsh suck that nearly sent him over before gripping him by the base, pulling her mouth off to smile cheekily at Jack gasping and sweating on the seat before her. “You promised me a good evening, Jack,” she said, her voice low and husky, rough with the telltale effort she had just used. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Heart hammering in his chest, Jack sat his glass down on the coffee table before he broke it. “God, babe, you are something else,” he groaned, tugging her up and onto his lap. The textured kiss of her lacey lingerie was nearly too much when it brushed his sensitive cock, but it wasn’t anything like her mouth had been, and that alone kept him from blowing his load then and there. Jack kept an inch of space between his cock and her body, contenting himself with touching her swollen lips. What a vixen.

Amelie rested her hands on his chest, looking at him through her long, thick lashes. With a quick move, she plucked the cigar from his lips, taking a single puff for herself before sitting it down on the coffee table’s ashtray. “Jack,” she purred, leaning up to pepper his face with kisses. She tasted like the cigar, thick and addicting. “Jack, Jack, won’t you give me more? I want my reward for being so good.”

She was going to be the death of him, he could already tell. Cupping her head in his hand, he took her by the hip and lifted her bodily, laying her out on the couch beneath him. Her long hair blanketed the dark leather beautifully, her body standing out like a gem against the black surface. That lingerie really didn’t leave much at all to the imagination, did it? Jack’s mouth began to water, and when Amelie shot him a coquettish, daring grin, he let his instincts take over, surrendering to the overwhelming want that had been building inside him since the moment he caught sight of her across the club.

“Jack!” she cried out, her hands going to his hair as he buried his teeth in the bust of her lingerie, yanking it down with a sharp tug of his head. “You beast!”

He grinned, gazing into her dark eyes, feeling every ounce the animal she professed him to be. “I just can’t hold back when you look so good, baby,” he admitted, leaning down to kiss and mouth at the newly exposed skin. He let his hands grip the bust, pulling it down to bare her firm, perfect breasts. Her nipples were hard already, and his mouth watered before he even brought one to his lips.

Amelie’s moans were heady things, lilting in the air like the most erotic music imaginable. Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him in place as he sucked and nipped, rolling her nipple along his tongue as his hand kneaded at the other breast. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. She needed out of her clothes, Jack thought, bringing both hands to her lingerie and giving it a mighty rip. She and him both.

Her gasp of shock didn’t come as much of a surprise as Jack tossed the ruined corset to the floor. “That was expensive!” she cried, thumping on his back with her fist. It may have sounded stronger, her anger, if she didn’t punctuate it with a throaty keen, Jack sucking harshly on her nipple as punishment.

“I’ll buy you another, baby,” he promised, blowing warm breath against her damp skin, watching her chest heave as she struggled for breath. “I just want to fuck you now, though. Nothing between us.”

“Easy for you to say,” she pouted, tugging at his fancy pressed shirt, her toes hooking on the leg of his pants, pulling at it pitifully. “Let me see you too, Jack.”

Compared to Amelie, Jack wasn’t nearly as pretty to look at. He grinned though, leaning up to unbutton the line of pearl buttons holding his shirt closed. Amelie came up with him, tugging his trousers down as he did so, helping him shuck them off just as he threw the shirt to the floor. Her smile was absolutely beatific, cheeks flushed as she rubbed her pussy in delight. “God, Jack,” she moaned, her eyes raking his form heatedly. “I want you to fuck me in the jacuzzi with that thick cock of yours.”

Jack glanced over at the bubbling jacuzzi, his mind going wild at the thought. “You minx,” he grinned, lifting her by the waist and throwing her over his shoulder, walking them over to the expensive looking bath. “Is this a fantasy of yours? I bet you dream of blowing me beneath the water too.”

Amelie giggled, glancing over her shoulder as he gave her plush ass a firm spank. “Oh, Jack, you think far too pedestrian,” she said, leaning into him as he set her down in the bubbling, pale pink liquid. She cupped her palms and brought the waters to his lips. “This isn’t water, my beast, but champagne.”

His mouth fell open and he let her feed him the drink, eyes going wide as the pink champagne danced across his tongue. How much did it cost to fill a jacuzzi with the stuff? From the taste alone he could tell it was the good stuff, and Amelie wanted to fuck in it. “You are something else, babe,” he laughed, pushing her back so he could get in too. The champagne bubbled and fizzed against his skin, adding to the pleasure her touch brought. “Never knew you got off on the finer things so much.”

The pale pink of the champagne blended beautifully with Amelie’s skin tone, and she backed up in the cool liquid, leaning against the far edge to spread her legs enticingly. Her cheeks flushed as the fizzing drink tickled her pussy, her breath coming faster as her want mounted. “I get off on a lot, Jack,” she said, curling a finger towards her, drawing Jack in. “It’s up to you to satisfy me either way.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, closing the distance between them, rubbing his hard, aching cock against her silken folds. “I will.”

Amelie let out a low moan when he rolled his hips in, fucking into her in one long, smooth thrust. He braced his hands on the edge she leaned on, pinning her in place with his body as he gave in to the eternal, primal urges she always seemed to incite with her body and beauty and damnable smile. Clutching at his arms, Amelie rolled into every move he made, her firm breasts rubbing against his chest, her cheeky mouth posed at his ear to treat him to every single lewd sound she made.

“Jack, oh, Jack,” she purred, her body clenching down around Jack’s cock beautifully. “You can go faster, can’t you? Please!”

“Too damn sexy, babe,” he laughed, sweating already, his muscles bulging as he rammed her harder, sloshing the expensive champagne over the side of the jacuzzi. “You little slut. You love this, don’t you? You love me fucking you in this place, in this room, in a jacuzzi filled with booze worth more than our lives combined. Think you deserve this treatment? I think you do. You’re so damn sexy. You could have the whole world wrapped around your finger so long as you spread your pretty legs first.”

Her eyes closed and she moaned loudly, the words only adding to the fire building between them. Jack gritted his teeth and took her by the waist, lifting her and turning them so that Amelie straddled his waist. He drank the champagne from her skin as she rode him wildly, hands on his shoulders, nails cutting into his skin as her moans filled the room as beautifully as music.

This really had been a fantastic idea. Jack had never tried something like this before, but now that he had, he wondered if much would compare. Amelie’s skin tasted intoxicating, the fizz and tickle of the champagne adding to the already addicting softness she boasted. Jack sucked eagerly on her breasts, lapping and nipping as she rode him faster and faster, moans singing higher and higher.

“Jack,” she cried, curling her fingers through his shortly cropped hair, holding him to her chest as she twisted her hips in his lap. “Jack, I’m so close. Are you?”

Gripping her hips tightly, he stopped her from moving. There was no way he was going to end this so soon. She let out a broken little moan, rocking aimlessly in search of the pleasure she was being barred from. “Not so fast, babe,” he crooned, searching for her lips for a deep, filthy kiss. Amelie fell into it desperately, her soft, pillowy lips parting on the ghost of a needy cry of his name. Jack drank her in, kissing her with a passion that had even him breathless. He slowly eased away, letting them share the breath between them. Amelie’s eyes were blown dark, cheeks flushed. Erotic in a way that could barely be comprehended.

“I need it, Jack,” she begged, pressing her breasts to his chest, peppering his cheeks with kisses. “Please.”

“So pretty,” Jack sighed, combing back her hair and putting it behind her ear. He kept a hand on her waist, refusing to let her move as he rolled his hips slowly, teasingly. “Have you done this with anyone else before? You seem to love it so much. Tell me, babe, have you brought any other man back here with those sexy little outfits of yours? Did you let them fuck your tight little pussy in thousands of dollars’ worth of champagne?”

She shook her head quickly, biting her bottom lip, her eyes closing as Jack thrust in deep. “No, no, only you,” she breathed, her hands settling on his shoulders, hanging limply from them. “You’re the only one I want. No one else is as good as you, Jack. No one feels as good.”

The words had Jack growling. He rewarded her with another deep thrust, dragging his cock in and out slowly, letting her shiver and shudder as she clawed his back, crying out in his ear. “You’re damn right, baby girl,” he rumbled, biting her teasingly on the neck. “Only I can make you feel this good.”

Amelie purred, tugging on his hair. “Yes, oh yes, drown me in it, Jack,” she begged, twisting her hips beneath his hand, trying to get the pleasure she needed. “Drown me in your touch, in decadence. I want to feel it all.”

“Sexy little minx,” Jack chuckled, looking over her shoulder. The room really was theirs to use, and it’d be a shame not to savor this. Fucking in champagne was all well and good, certainly novel and certainly luxurious, but it could be better. It could be so much better. The sofa? It was a nice sofa, but not good enough for what he wanted to do. He looked then to the wall, the ornately decorated walls that boasted artwork and intricate paneling. Lovely to look at but probably not the best to fuck against.

“Jack?” Amelie whimpered. “What are you waiting for?”

“Something perfect,” he murmured back, kissing her hair. He looked towards the raised portion of the room, half-hidden behind a paper screen inked with flowers and detailed birds in flight. The angle was wrong, making it hard to see, but if he craned his neck, Jack could just make out the corner of an impressively large bed peeking out from behind the screen.

Amelie wanted something impressive. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He could do impressive.

Lifting her from the champagne, Jack pulled out and stepped over the edge of the jacuzzi without a single word of warning. Champagne dripped from their bodies and sloshed over the floor, fizzing and tickling as it kissed the air against their skin. Amelie wanted to drown in decadence? Why, he could help with that. She wrapped herself around him and held him tightly as he carried her to the bed, laying her out on the plush, luxuriant sheets with a kiss. She was pouting now, body flushed and wet and ready. Impatience hung heavy on her face, but Jack was immune. Mostly.

“Wait here, babe,” he whispered, kissing a line down her neck, her chest, her smooth, flat belly. “I’ve got something I think you’ll like.”

“Is it your cock back inside me?” she asked gasping and writhing slowly along the bedding, delighting in the feeling of the smooth silk against her skin. “Because Jack, I’d really like that.”

Laughing, Jack stood back up, going back to the couch where he had left his pants to dig for his wallet. “Not quite, but you’ll get that too in a minute,” he said, dropping the trousers back on the floor. He flipped open the wallet and took in the thick stack of bills he had packed inside. Sure, it wasn’t the intended use of his cover money, but this was certainly an emergency of a different kind.

Amelie eyed the wallet with wide, curious eyes, her legs already spread in wait for his return. “What have you got planned, Jack?” she wondered, smile widening as he pulled the money out and laid it flat in his hand. “I can’t tell for the life of me, but I like where this is going.”

“Oh, I know you’ll love it,” he said, and before she could so much as furrow her brow, Jack began to toss the cash into the air, making it rain down around Amelie and settle onto the bedspread. Her eyes went wide and her smile even wider, laughing like a pleased child as she rolled around in the twenties and fifties and hundreds.

“Jack!” she cried, rubbing the money against her cheeks. “You absolute dog!”

“What can I say?” he asked, folding himself down on top of her, slipping back inside as easily as if he had never left in the first place. Jack grunted at the tight, wet heat, his hips thrusting on instinct when she clenched around him. “You wanted to experience the high life. Can’t think of anything more luxurious than fucking in a bed of money. Can you?”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Amelie smiled widely and shook her head, arching her back to drink in all he gave her. “I love it, Jack,” she purred, rubbing her cheek against the cash on her pillow. The dollars tangled in her hair, sticking to the damp champagne still on her skin. “God, I love it so much. You make me feel so hot.”

She felt hot? Jack felt as if he were on the surface of the sun. Sweat beaded his brow as he thrust and thrust, harder and harder, rocking into her with reckless abandon until she couldn’t so much as speak. He had never before felt so much like an animal than now. The silk sheets slid beneath his knees as he moved for better leverage, the money’s characteristic scent mixing with that of the expensive champagne on Amelie’s skin. Sweet and rich. She smelled like something reserved for the upper class, the most expensive fuck toy this world had to offer.

And somehow, she was all Jack’s. The thought alone was nearly enough to send him over the rapidly approaching edge. He slowed the pace before it could happen, much to Amelie’s disappointment. He wanted this to last a little longer yet. Who knew when the next chance would come for something like this? It would be best to savor it while it lasted, lest Amelie disappear again for another three months.

“God, just look at you,” Jack groaned, staring down at the beautiful picture Amelie made framed between his arms. Her hands were wrapped around his wrists, more for support than for any real attempt at moving him. “You look like something I’d see in a painting.” A painting kept in the back, he added silently, smiling to himself.

Amelie was always so weak to his praise. She hardly needed it though, given how beautiful she had to know she was. “God, Jack,” she moaned, baring her throat to him submissively. Her soft, gorgeous thighs wrapped around his waist, trying and failing to make him fuck her harder again. “Why do you tease me like this? Haven’t I been good?”

“You’ve been so good, baby girl,” he growled, leaning down to leave a line of marks along her neck. She tasted so good that it was almost unreal. “The best I’ve ever seen. You’re so eager to please me, aren’t you? Do I make you want to be good?”

Her hands squeezed Jack’s wrists as she writhed on his cock, eyes shut tight and lips parted in a low keen. “Yes,” she begged, opening her eyes to implore him with all she had. Given how good she looked right now, it was a lot to offer. “Jack, Jack, please. Please let me cum.” She even went so far as to spread her legs wide, prompting Jack to stare down between their bodies to take in the sight of his cock filling her. God, she looked good. Better than anything he had ever seen in a magazine, and far more genuine besides. All in all, it was one hell of a display to get her way.

“Spreading your legs got you this far, right?” he teased, finding her lips with his to kiss her deeply, coaxing another broken moan from her as easily as anything. Jack nipped at her lips and pulled back, loving how she tried to follow him as he moved away. So desperate. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t just as wound up as her. “Maybe I should just be nice and give you what you deserve.”

“Oh, please, please, Jack,” she begged in a breathless rush, moving her hands to his hair to implore him with everything she had. His hips rocked in and out, picking up speed the more she caressed his face. Amelie’s eyes went wide, and then her lips formed a cute little smile, cheeks flushing as the pleasure resumed. “Thank you, thank you so much, Jack.”

She sounded so grateful for such a small thing. Jack loved it. He leaned his head down and buried his face in her breasts, licking and sucking as he moved his hips like a piston, taking her apart again in seconds. Her hands went tight in his hair but he didn’t let it distract him as he gave her all she had asked for and more. In all honesty, it was hard to resist her at all. She looked too good, sounded too good, tasted too good. Amelie had the kind of face that made Jack want to give her the world. Her body, on the other hand, made him want to fuck her so hard that she saw the stars.

It didn’t come as a shock to him when she began to moan louder, or when she began to lose her breath with every thrust he gave her. Her eyes grew wet and her thighs began to tremble around his waist, and when Jack met her eye and grinned wolfishly at her, she seemed to come all the more undone. “Are you close, baby girl?” he asked, rolling his hips to grind against her. “You look like you’re about to cum all over this fancy bed.”

She could only nod, her voice gone. Or well, not gone, but certainly saving itself for more important things, like begging pitifully. She sang his name like a song, her hands clawing at his shoulders desperately. Jack’s blood boiled as the pain blended with the pleasure, his own control finally beginning to slip. And who could blame him? Amelie looked like a vision of pure desire, something used to tempt men away from the light to lead them down a path of pure abandon. Jack leaned down for a messy, sloppy, filthy kiss, knowing he would follow her anywhere, let her do anything to him, so long as she looked like this while doing it.

“God, Jack,” she gasped, eyes closing as she arched off the bed. Hundred-dollar bills stuck to her sticky, sweaty skin, almost as if the bed felt the need to pay her for the pleasure of having her writhing atop its sheets. “I’m going to cum!”

“Do it,” he growled, pinning her back to the mattress, growling and grunting in her ear like the animal she professed him to be. He was so close too. So goddamn close that there really was no helping it.

When Jack came, he did so loudly, growling out his desire in Amelie’s ear to make her tremble and tumble over too. He rutted wildly, sucking marks against her breasts, his head filling with the sound of her coming undone. Amelie’s moans were sharp, erotic, going higher and higher in pitch as she came on his cock and his cock alone. The hands that had been tangled in his hair fell to the pillow on either side of her head, her strength gone. What a pretty picture she made, framed by her hands, her lips parted as she gasped for air, her pupils blown wide with the peak of her pleasure. Jack shivered and pulled out of her wet warmth, drowning in the sight of her.

Falling down onto the mattress at her side, Jack struggled to catch his breath, his vision still hazy and his limbs heavy with exertion. “Christ, baby girl,” he swore, the soiled bills sticking to his bare, sweaty skin the moment he laid down. It would be such a pain to collect it all up again, but he knew he would have to before he left. There wasn’t much of an excuse to offer up as to why he had spent so much money, and he didn’t relish the idea of putting this on his mission expenditure report.

“Jack,” Amelie purred, rolling into his arms, her slender hand combing through his sweaty hair. Her soft skin felt heavenly against his, her soft breasts pressing warming against his arm. “Jack, that was so good. I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a while after that.”

Sighing out a laugh, Jack could only think the same. How long did they have this room for? He hoped for a few more hours at least. He could use a nap, another scotch, and the rest of that Cuban for sure. Maybe then he would be awake and lively enough to go back out and finish the mission. The club was still thrumming vaguely through the walls, telling him that there was no rush on getting back.

“And what are you thinking about so deeply?” Amelie asked, inching up his chest to kiss him cheekily. Her lips were so soft, her plush bottom lip so full when Jack bit it gently between his teeth. Amelie let out a breathless little sigh, but pulled away, looking down at him with lovely eyes.

“Now, don’t try to distract me, Jack,” she murmured, tapping at his nose with her finger. “You aren’t that good.”

Jack smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I think I’m plenty distracting,” he murmured, nipping playfully at her finger. “I’m just thinking about my mission. I hadn’t anticipated this kind of distraction. I’m wondering if my target is still out there, or if I’ll be going back to base empty handed.”

“And who is your target?”

Jack raised a brow. It was his turn now to tap her on the nose. “You really think I would tell Widowmaker, the Scourge of Talon, who my target is?” he teased, rolling his eyes. As if she didn’t already know. If his guess were right, she had probably been assigned to the club just to oppose him in his mission. Not much got past Talon. Or well, not much aside from the fact that their infamous sniper was Soldier 76’s little fuck toy on the side. Jack supposed they couldn’t catch everything their agents did. Nobody was that on point.

“Aw, Jack,” she cooed, pouting prettily. “So mean. And after all the nice things I did for you.”

Cupping her cheek, Jack ghosted his thumb over her bottom lip. “I think you’ll live, baby girl,” he chuckled. And Jack was sure his target could stand to wait a bit too. This night had been all about indulgence, hadn’t it?

What was the harm in indulging a little more?

“Jack?”

Jack grinned, rolling Amelie over and onto her back, his mouth against her throat and his cock against her hip. He could waste time with another round, he supposed, hearing Amelie moan somewhere above him as he moved lower down her body. He could work her over a few more times until she really couldn’t walk, and then he would go deal with his target. If he really thought about it, he was eliminating his opposition before he made his first move. If Amelie enjoyed it, well, then that was just better for everyone involved, wasn’t it?

“Jack, Jack, you beast,” Amelie moaned prettily, and Jack grinned against her champagne scented skin. “Don’t you ever turn off?”

“You don’t know the half of it, baby girl,” he grinned.


End file.
